


Honour

by jazzjo



Series: en garde (at your service) [1]
Category: All For One (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6943066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzjo/pseuds/jazzjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you'd seen Anne's face this morning, you'd be even harsher."</p>
<p>The reason for Treville's sharp words.</p>
<p>Or, Anne's face in the morning and Jeanne's everlasting guilt for the first "caper" they had ever gotten embroiled in with Rick Liu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honour

Jeanne sighed as she read the most recent message that she had been alerted to, from the two sophomores who acted as liaisons between Mu Sigma Theta and the campus papers. Setting her phone face down on her bed, Jeanne ran a hand through her hair before she made to remove the worn shirt she had put on after her shower the night before. 

 

“What is it, darling?” Anne’s warm voice cut through her thoughts, “It’s only seven in the morning and I can hear your mind running a mile a minute from over here.”

 

“Some freshmen are more trouble than they are worth,” Jeanne shrugged, trying her best to sound nonchalant about the whole matter. The last thing she wanted was to alert Anne to the gravity of the situation before she had the opportunity to do some damage control. 

 

A sharp laugh escaped Anne’s lips, her hands reaching up to tame her curls into a messy ponytail as she replied, “Darling, we’ve established that you’re a horrific liar, even by omission.”

 

“It’s nothing, Anne.”

 

“Jeanne.”

 

The silence held for the better part of three minutes, Jeanne painfully aware of each second that was spent with Anne’s piercing blue eyes trained on her. 

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

“Don’t start with an apology for something you didn’t do, Jeanne,” Anne interrupted knowingly. 

 

Jeanne pressed her lips together as she rose and brought her phone to Anne’s bed, passing it to the older girl and immediately distancing herself from the device. 

 

“The message should be the first thing you see when it unlocks,” Jeanne sighed. 

 

Anne placed her thumb over the home button, her eyes locked on the dim screen of Jeanne’s phone as it allowed her entry. Her eyes scanned the message that Jeanne had received, her grip on the phone tightening as the reality of the situation sunk in. 

 

“I’m sorry, Anne,” Jeanne started, her voice caught in her throat as she took in Anne’s wide eyes and how utterly crestfallen she looked.

 

Anne swiftly schooled her expression, her voice steady when she spoke, “We’ve dealt with him before. We’ll do it again.”

 

“I’m not sure ready to go back there again,” Jeanne paced the length of their shared room as her fingers tangled in the frayed ends of her shirt. 

 

“Darling—”

 

Her footsteps drew closer together as her voice tightened, “He is ruthless, that much we know for sure. We know he has power and influence, and goodness knows he has shoddy morals at best. After all that happened the last time—”

 

Anne rose from her perch on her bed, catching Jeanne’s wrist with two fingers as she pulled them onto the hardwood floor. Taking Jeanne’s trembling hands in her own, Anne kissed each one before she nudged Jeanne’s chin up with the tip of her index finger. 

 

“Darling, stop blaming yourself.”

 

Jeanne blinked back the tears fiercely, worrying her bottom lip. Even as Anne’s hand came up to cup her face warmly, Jeanne averted her gaze, staring blankly ahead. 

 

Anne sighed, a small tired sound that barely escaped through her parted lips, “You’re the strongest person I know, Jeanne. You build walls but you care more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

 

_Her knight_ , Anne pondered with a small slanted grin. Before Dorothy Castlemore and the events of the past year, Jeanne had always been the one to jump to her defence, sabre at the ready. 

 

“Jeanne, listen to me,” Anne pleaded, her thumb running softly against the line of Jeanne’s cheekbone, “What happened last year was not your fault. It was Rick Liu’s, plain and simple. You’re the reason I got through it all, darling.”

 

Jeanne was quiet as she spoke, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “Nothing of the sort would have happened if I had not interfered in the manner I had—”

 

“—I am deeply sorry, Anne.”

 

“Nonsense!” Anne’s hand fell to her lap as she straightened abruptly, “Darling, you were just trying to help. You did the right things.”

 

Taking the opportunity that the absence of physical contact granted her, Jeanne rose to her feet and strode directly to the window on the opposite side of the room, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. 

 

“You did not see how it all affected you, Anne,” Jeanne murmured, “Not from the perspective of a bystander. You were so broken, so hurt and at a loss and I could not for the life of me figure out how I could possibly fix something that I had _caused_ in the first place.”

 

“Jeanne—”

 

“There was no honour in hurting you, Anne,” Jeanne snapped, her hand clenched into a tight fist against the window.

 

Tears finally began slipping down her face, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress it. 

 

_After all, she did not have the right to cry_. _Not over this_. 

 

She felt the soft pressure of Anne’s lips against her temple, the older girl’s arm curling around her shoulders as she settled them both in the window seat. 

 

“You _never_ hurt me, darling,” Anne’s voice was soft and low against her ear, “It was not your fault. It was, and always has been, Rick Liu’s.”

 

Anne wiped the remnants of the tears on Jeanne’s face away with the pad of her thumb, her lips placing a soft kiss on Jeanne’s cheek. 

 

“It will be different this time,” Anne assured, “It’s no longer us against the world. We have help now and, more importantly, I have you. He will not break me a second time, no matter what he’s holding over my head. Now, I believe you have a troublesome freshman to terrify?”

 

Jeanne grinned at Anne’s words, raising her hands to shut the blinds of their windows.

 

“Well, I cannot very well do that in this tattered t-shirt, can I?” Jeanne retorted, “Care to assist me in choosing my outfit, Miss Bonacieux?”

 

“Oh, I would be honoured to, Miss Treville.”

 

Jeanne leaned forward, pressing a kiss onto Anne’s lips as she murmured, “I love you, Anne.”

 

“I love you too, darling,” Anne responded in kind.


End file.
